


Winds of Change

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Friendship, Humor, Multi, Romance, Slytherin Politics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:47:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23052697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Gwen Bortole has had a secret that had been looming over her head her entire life. Following her footsteps and lurking in her shadows. Apparently. But when she finds out she's a witch, Gwen is split from those she cares most. She's willing to do anything to keep them safe.
Relationships: ;) - Relationship, dont you want to know???
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	1. Year of the Snake

_Year of the Snake_

"Excuse me; have you seen a toad anywhere?" The compartment door slid open and Gwen cut her eyes across to see a bossy haired girl with large teeth. "Neville's lost one."

Returning to read the book, Gwen shook her head, "No."

There was a moment of silence and the door still hadn't closed. Gwen saw the girl standing there, curiously gleaming in her brown eyes. "Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to leave?"

The girl flushed and shook her head quickly, stuttering out a never mind and Gwen sighed. People didn't leave her alone.

* * *

The sky had been dark and Gwen was getting tired. She hadn't slept at _all_ on the train and she had only eaten breakfast. She pushed the braid back over her shoulder as she walked with the other nervous first years. Gwen didn't feel nervous. Or, at least, she wasn't _this_ nervous.

 _You've been through worse_ , she reminds herself and plasters a sweet smile that had adults falling for her, _you can deal with a stupid sorting_.

The hall is painfully warm and ostentatiously big, filled with chattering children and temperamental teens watching them with judging eyes. She kept smiling because at least, she was good at that.

This was a world she didn't know about but she knew then, that whatever house she went into would be the base for the rest of her life decisions, the path that she would walk on.

They went alphabetically.

"Abbott, Hannah!" went first.

She watched the hat, who had sung a pretty little song that she hadn't paid attention to. Contrary to unpopular belief, she _did_ know about the houses. Any person would know if they opened the book.

(or well, book _s_ )

"Bortole, Gwenneth!"

Making sure her expression was still kind, unfazed and open; Gwen sauntered up to the Sorting hat. Placing the ratted cap on her head, Gwen placed her hands on her lap.

_Well, aren't you a curious one?_

Gwen jolted, fingers intertwining and digging into her palms. What in the ever-loving fu-

_Ha! Always the tone of surprise. Alas, we are not here to talk about the surprise I give but about the one you will create. Yes, you will do well. You will struggle but... you have potential._

Gwen felt as though she was in a dream and pinched the palm of her hand.

" _SLYTHERIN_!"

* * *

Gwen had always been unwelcome.

As a young child, she had been – and still was - extremely smart with a quick memory that allowed her to succeed more than the other children. It had been small things. Perhaps she had began to score higher, garnered more praise from the teachers or perhaps she had messed up somewhere along the line. She tried not to wonder about.

As she grew older, she had grown _stranger_. She began what she knew now was 'accidental magic' that all kids performed. Gwen had brought items down from shelves in the beginning but after the school bully had pushed her in a fit of anger and she had blasted him back, as in, five feet back into the brick wall she had been made a pariah.

The teachers still loved her though. All adults did.

And now, in Slytherin, she was once again, the outcast.

The girls in her dormitory ignored her and she ignored them. The boys pretended she didn't exist. The older students tolerated her, to an extent, and the prefects allowed Gwen to ask questions. Perhaps it was for reputation; perhaps it was because she was a first year but whatever the reason was Gwen was content to let it lie.

* * *

Gwen rewrote the last sentence of her potions essay for the very last time, hand cramping terribly, and closed the book. She had read it four times already, memorised half of it by heart, and exhausted the material. Opening her transfiguration book, she turned to the page she had left off.

Reading books once was fun, twice was tiring but doable, thrice was mentally exhausting and the fourth was merely a quick skim of the pages. After that, however, when she had memorized the important parts, re-reading became a fun exercise to delve deeper into the possibilities that surrounded her.

Having excelled in all her subjects and becoming one of the top scorers in her year had been a tiring job though but she couldn't allow herself to slack. She _wouldn't_.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

It was the bossy, bushy haired girl with a red and gold tie. Gwen had no need for company and she didn't need her house coming down on her for befriending a Gryffindor.

"Yes."

* * *

The girls name was Hermione Granger, apparently, and as Gwen heard in the silver and green common room. Pansy Parkinson – one of, if not the, most insufferable girls in her year – was talking about her with Draco Malfoy and his little posse.

"Bortole! Didn't she _talk_ to you?" Parkinson's pitchy voice carried over and the group turned to stare at her, Malfoy's lip curling in distaste.

"Unfortunately."

Parkinson giggled and smiled prettily at her, well, as pretty as she could be. The girl flicked her hair over her shoulder. "At least you know not to hang out with people such as _her."_

Gwen felt bad. She felt bad for a lot of things and maybe, in another world, she might've befriended the lonely girl but that was not this world and she was _not_ getting caught up in drama for the sake of a friend.

Her only friend wasn't here.

OoO

_Sis, Miss Norbis set us more work. She says I should be like you but I don't want to read boring books like you do. Sorry, that was mean! But still. Do you think I could play football instead? I'm good at it, says the coach, maybe one day I'll play for England!_

_How's school?_

_I don't mean to ruin the mood of the message but you told me that mama was called Holly and I can't find her in the records. Did you lie, sis?_

_Anyway, come home for Christmas!_

_Your bro,_

_Alex._

OoO

Halloween passed dramatically.

Did she ignore it?

Mmh, Gwen tried.

* * *

Gwen was perceptive, she liked to think. She knew who came into the library and when what for and who with. Then, Hermione Granger walked in with the Boy-Who-Lived and a Weasley at her back and began combing the shelves for... something.

She didn't ask and this wasn't the case where she held no interest because no, she was. She tried to eavesdrop but that didn't get more than a ' _how long do we have to search for?'_

* * *

Gwen wrote down the formula for the Forgetfulness Potion again, changing what she thought might help. She had been trying to fix the problem of it turning green for several days now and didn't fancy retuning the entire thing. Of course, she could go the written route, but things got complicated and more than they needed to be.

Running the end of the quill over her bottom lip, she scribbled out her last annotation and replaced it with another.

Mentally, she ran through the steps and declared it ready to run. Now, if only she could find a place to-

She was suddenly crowded by three first years. Hermione Granger slammed at book down, one she had been carrying with her all day, and smiled politely, "We have a question-"

"She's a Slytherin! You didn't tell us that, Hermione!" Weasley glared fiercely down at her. Gwen ignored him.

"Be quiet, Ron." Hermione turned to her. "Do you know anyone by the name, Nicholas Flamel?"

Gwen mulled the name over in her find, remembering a book she had read that had mentioned the name. She stood up from her chair and walked over to the third closest bookshelf. She pulled out a green book and put it back, and then a blue-green one that looks close to the one she was looking for before finally tugging out a dark, faded green-grey book and handing it over.

"It should be in here." She said quietly before sliding back into her seat at the table, "Is that all?"

Granger nodded quickly and thanked her profusely.

* * *

_To my brother,_

_Miss Norbis is a dingbat; don't let anyone tell you otherwise. She spent three years comparing my looks to Jenna Forsby. She hates everyone, I think, and it's really best not to worry about her. It's something against Mum. I don't know what but she mentioned me being exactly like her in my ways._

_School is alright. It's interesting though. I excel here as I did back home which is nice but sharing rooms is kind of awkward at times. If you're going to ask, no I don't have any friends. My Housemates pretend I don't exist which is nice since they can be really vicious sometimes. I have to watch my step but maybe next year I'll try._

_I wasn't lying about Mum. I forgot you didn't know about your dad and Mum. When they married Mum took his last name. His last name was Orin. Mum demanded you take her old name and your dad wouldn't let me change my own. So try looking for Holly Orin, or if all else fails, search for Nancy Jared._

_I'll tell you who she is over Christmas, but whatever you do, don't visit her. I'm being serious. She hates both of us – and mum._

_Rent out a movie for when I come home and I'll buy snacks on the way back!_

_Gwen_

* * *

Gwen's Christmas was just like any others, except now she had a new pair of gloves that her brother had bought her. She had quietly explained, the day before she left, about Nancy Jared and the scandal that ruined a family.

Her brother had been furious, of course, but Gwen calmed him down. She felt anxious he would do something impeccably rash and mess something up. Thank Merlin he wasn't an adult yet.

After Christmas, Gwen devoted whatever time she had left to find a suitable room to brew in. This led her to this;

Gwen spent most of her time in either the library, common room, or the dorms but at the minute she was searching the dungeons.

She ran her hand over the cold wall, pressing slightly on each new stone as she walked in an odd pattern. She counted two-hundred and twenty-three presses when suddenly, the wall _moved_. She walked in. Gwen sneezed.

The room was dusty and full of cobwebs. The bitterly cold air chilled her to the bones and was a good bit colder than outside. Inside the room, however, was a large work desk with room for a cauldron. It wasn't spacious, not at all, but quite cosy.

Huffing in frustration, she made her way through the room and lit a halfway done candle. Along the walls were inscriptions in a foreign language and a large, oaken bookshelf that seemed to last through the years. In fact, it seemed as if it was frozen in time and left alone.

Somebody had wanted it gone, perhaps, but it wasn't and she had found it.

* * *

_Uncle Kevin,_

_I haven't written to you in ages._

_You know why._

_Don't tell Nancy and send me the photo album of mum, married or not. Alex is getting curious and I'll be telling him the truth soon._

_I only hope he accepts it._

_Gwenneth Bortole._

* * *

Gwen cleaned out the room and immediately moved all her work down there. She filled up the bookshelves with her dismal collection of books and placed a cauldron that she had bought specially – using up her self-set-up allowance – and got to work.

The only way to make sure the potions worked was to test them and after she brewed the forgetfulness potion, which seemed the right shade and consistency but had a wonky smell to it, she sat down with the other first years at breakfast.

"Bortole, finally decided to grace us with your presence?" Malfoy drawled and his two goons sniggered.

The vial, which was slipped up her sleeve, emptied itself into his drink.

 _Magic_!

Gwen sat down, at the edge of the first years beside Blaise Zabini, and made herself a plate. She often ate quickly and left early. The other first-years –well, the more talkative ones anyway – gossiped cheerfully about who did what.

"So, do you spend time with Muggleborns and blood-traitors, Bortole?" Parkinson asked snidely, drinking from her goblet.

Gwen eyed her silently for a moment, "I don't spend time with any of them. They annoy me."

"Why? Aren't you one yourself?"

"I don't know. Both of my parents are dead." Gwen said sharply. "And I don't have any other relatives."

That seemed to settle the question. If anything, the fact that a Muggleborn was in their house was atrocious and impossible but a half-blood, well, they could accept that. It meant Slytherin was still a symbol of purity in the Wizarding World and not tainted.

The conversation continued and Malfoy was going on a tangent again, "I don't think those with impure blood should be here" (Tracey Davis turned a shade of white that Gwen didn't know existed)"And that-"

He cut himself off and looked confused. "What was I talking about?"

Theodore Nott didn't cast his eyes up from his plate as he replied, "How those with impure blood shouldn't be allowed in Hogwarts."

Malfoy nodded and continued only to stop again. And then again and again until it was time for class.

Success.

* * *

_Gwenneth,_

_I have sent you a copy of the album. I have removed those that are strictly of me and Nancy. I wish you well in your future endeavours, niece._

_My sincerest apologies,_

_Kevin._

OoO

Gwen stayed behind after charms.

Plastering on a sweet smile and a charming facade, Gwen approached Professor Flitwick shyly. The Professor hadn't realised she was there.

"Excuse me Professor?" Gwen said and Flitwick turned around and smiled back at her, "I was just wondering if there were any books you could recommend that are a bit more advanced? I've already learnt the entire charms book for this year by heart."

Flitwick chuckled joyfully, "Yes, Miss Bortole, you do possess an aptitude for charms. I'm very impressed with your dedication. You should've been in my own house!"

Gwen pretended to laugh along. Flitwick continued. "There is the next year's book but I do recommend _Charms Compendium_ for all my years. I would not, however, go too far in. You are still young despite your skill."

"Of course, Professor Flitwick. I would never."Gwen brushed the falling brown curls out of her face, "Thank you, Professor."

* * *

_Sis_

_You don't look like mum at all! She's very blonde and light-eyed. I wondered who I took after. Well, I have dads eyes, don't I?_

_Anyway, where did you get this? I was wondering because you only ever had that one picture of the cat – Mouses? Muses? I can't remember – after everything was lost in the fire. There aren't any pictures of me and you or even just you but there is this strange man in Mums wedding photo._

_Who is he? Is he family? Is he a friend? Was he in the fire too?_

_I have so many questions, sis. Please answer them. I'm getting sick of the 'you'll be told when you're older'. . Can you at least tell me Dad's full name?_

_Alex._

* * *

Gwen glared at the page with a fury.

_Bro,_

_His name was Leo Orin._

_I'll tell you all of it when you're eleven. Trust me on this. I wasn't told until just this year, you know that. There are only five people who know the truth about this. It's dangerous, for both of us._

_Listen, Alex, that man..._

_He's bad. He pretends he's good but he_ left _us. Don't trust him, alright?_

_Sis._

* * *

"Bortole."

The upper years, mainly third and a few fourth, approached her. Gwen plastered a charming smile on her face and placed back a book on the shelf.

"Yes?" Gwen asked, clasping her hands behind her back.

"We've heard you're good at charms. Didn't you get an advanced book on the subject?" asked a light-haired girl smoothly and she shrugged a shoulder, "Slytherin house is always looking for potential."

As if, she had only been an outsider. She was. She didn't know why she was denying it.

"I like to think I'm proficient at it," Gwen said.

A few of the group nodded, pleased and the girl held out a hand, "Call me Melaia. Melaia Rowle, Gwen."

She eyed the hand, the offer. The ability to move up the ranks and made her decision.

She shook.

* * *

_Bro,_

_Eugh, the Gryffindors won._

_Dammit all. Dammit, it all to hell! I worked hard for those points and those- those-_

_Nevermind._

_Well, I'll be coming home soon. I did promise to tell you more._

_I'll tell you about our extended family, our Aunt Nancy and Uncle Kevin._ Don't _go looking either._

_Please?_

_Sis_


	2. Year of the Monster

The sun was rising on the horizon when Gwen arrived at the decrepit park. It was small and rusted, with one swing tied around the bar but that was usual. The older teenagers did it last night, Gwen was sure.

"Gwen!" A pretty dirty-blonde girl was sitting on the slide. Madeline Brocker, an old friend. A _very_ old friend. She had never made any friends in her own class and in her area but she knew others from the Park.

The Park was a place about half an hour away from where she lived. It was the bridge between two different communities that were often never breached. She had found solace here for a long while before her brother began school and she was needed. She spent less and less time here but the few hours she got were worth it.

Madeline clambered to the ground and beckoned her, "Come here, Gwen. Jason's coming in a minute."

"Is he bringing food from his Grandma's?" Gwen asked as she joined her friend.

"I hope so." She pushed her hair out of her eyes and walked up the slide awkwardly. She had always done that, made things harder than they needed to be and Gwen followed her but up the steps. She sat on the small bench that was at the top, "Maybe Laya will bring something."

They looked at each other.

"As if –" Gwen said, rolling her eyes and sitting down.

"She's not so bad!" Madeline interrupted her, exasperated. "You just don't like her because she pushed you into the river!"

Gwen glared at her. They had traipsed through a large park which had a river running through it. There had been a bridge and stones to cross underneath it. As young children with little safety awareness, they had skipped over the grey steps over and over. Gwen had stopped to stand by the mud bank for a moment and Laya had slammed straight into her, on purpose or not she didn't know, and she had gone flying into the freezing waters of the river. It was shallow and the current weak, but the water soaking into her clothes and Gwen had held it against it ever since.

"On purpose!"

She had vehemently denied that it was an accident even now but it was only for the pride.

"Hey, guys!"

Jason Lal, peppered-haired and brown-eyed, stepped through with Laya beside him, holding two packages in his hands.

Madeline gave Gwen a _look._

* * *

Gwen tied off the end of her braid. It was messy and half-done with the cheap tie ending it. She bit her lip. Gwen had always succeeded in life, with everything but she was struggling with this.

"Sis?"

A blonde head popped around the door.

Alex was smiling widely and peered up at her. He ran his fingers up and down the side of the door, "We're going today, right?"

Gwen sighed and nodded, frowning at her reflection of the mirror, "I wouldn't lie."

"Would you though?" Alex asked cheekily.

Gwen rolled her eyes and faced him. "If you're going to complain the whole time you're not going. If you are, go get my bag and come back up."

"'Kay."

He closed the door and walked out. Gwen didn't hear his footsteps down the hall and he walked back in, "Did you ask first?"

Gwen gestured towards the mirror carelessly, "Bring my bag and we'll go."

* * *

"Is this what we need?"

Alex held up a book from _Flourish and Blotts_ with a goofy smile and Gwen sighed. She took the book and put it back, "No."

"If you say so!" He turned around to the crowd of witches around Gilderoy Lockhart, "You wanna go?"

Gwen wrinkled her nose. "Don't quite fancy it."

"Yikes."

"Mmh, yikes."

Alex and Gwen went back to searching through the shelves. Alex kept trying to persuade Gwen to buy weird books about this and that. He was getting impatient and she tried to hurry it up a bit.

The store was packed though, and it was a struggle trying to get what she needed. She scrunched her nose up at the Lockhart's book and their obnoxious titles and covers.

"Are they _moving?"_ Alex exclaimed.

* * *

The compartment looked the same as it did last year.

No big changes, no big differences. Just a window, seats and the emptiness. Gwen didn't find much difference about it. Turning a page in her second year Transfiguration book absentmindedly, she mused about the idea of a full compartment. It would be loud and cramped and would've left her with an inability to concentrate on what she was reading.

The train had left roughly an hour ago and they had begun to run through the fields of Britain. The grass was – predictably – green and the sky was – you wouldn't believe – blue with little clouds.

Gwen propped her feet up on the seat facing her, leaning her book on her knees. The colours in the window blurred with colours as they ventured deeper, the animals of the country flying past.

She was rereading the last chapter again when the door slid open.

"Bortole." Malfoy said passively. "Sitting alone?"

Gwen looked him dead in the eyes and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Just curious but you know, there's a compartment up the front of the train for Slytherin's." He shrugged. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind you there."

Gwen mulled the idea over. On one hand, the upper years had accepted her as a member but nothing else but this could also improve the relationship she had in Slytherin overall. She marked the page she was on and closed the book over, "Alright."

"Come on then."

They walked (Crabbe and Goyle following obediently behind them) and Malfoy chattered on about his summer,"-Father got me the new Nimbus 2001. Do you fly, Bortole?"

"Not after Flying." She said. Gwen had never seen the appeal in it despite the moderate skill she had and Gwen had left the broomsticks behind in her first year.

Malfoy eyed her. "Why? You seemed decent at it."

Gwen shrugged and pushed her hair back over her shoulder, "I never saw the appeal in it. I enjoy watching it more than anything."

Malfoy seemed to settle with the answer. "You'll be watching me this year. My Father bought brooms for the entire Slytherin team – Nimbus'."

Gwen's eyebrows rose at that. The only spot left on the team was Seeker since Terrence Higg's left. "Do you think _you_ could beat Potter?"

"Of course!" He sniffed obnoxiously. "I'm a great Seeker, Bortole!"

"I'll take your word for it then."

They reached the Slytherin section of the train and Malfoy opened the door for her. A different train carriage entirely, decorated in subtle greens and silvers. She wondered who walked through here.

"Sit with me, Bortole."

It wasn't a command, nor an offer, but a demand. Gwen sighed inwardly at the thought of becoming one of Malfoy's lackeys but she didn't know anybody else in her House. Nodding slightly, she followed the boy.

In his – well, she supposed it was _his_ – compartment were four people – Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott, Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson. Nott was reading a book, ignoring the occupants of the compartment whilst Greengrass and Parkinson gossiped and giggled. Bulstrode, broad shoulders and plain, was shunned and hardly paying attention. Gwen had once heard her referred to as the 'female version of Crabbe and Goyle' which was true, in the looks department.

Malfoy dramatically closed the door after his two goons entered and gestured to her, "Gwen Bortole."

He introduced her as if they didn't even know her name. Perhaps they didn't, she mused silently, she wasn't exactly popular.

The two gossiping girls looked up and Nott spared her a glance from his book. Bulstrode blinked twice and nodded once before returning to whatever world she was in. Clasping her hands around her book, "Nice to meet you."

Gwen sat down onto the chair and crossed her legs.

Pansy Parkinson let out a giggle and peered at her, "How was your summer, Bortole?"

"Alright, I suppose," she said nonchalantly, "It's never really exciting, to begin with."

"You don't have parents, right?" Parkinson said uncaringly as if she was talking about the weather, "So who do you live with?"

"My half-brother."

Greengrass raised an eyebrow, "A muggle?"

Gwen nodded as they questioned her. She wasn't being _entirely_ truthful, but they were being incredibly obvious about what they wanted to know. Gwen created half-stories about her life, about how she lived and her brother.

The train came to a halt. Gwen stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Parkinson and Greengrass chattered on and on as they went up to school, about this and that and Gwen tuned them out.

This was going to be interesting

* * *

Gwen tied her hair back with a silver hair tie. Wiping her hand across her forehead as the heat increased, she wiped her sweaty hands on her skirt. It was the first time since the school year had started that Gwen had gotten a chance to come down to the Room.

It was the same as she left it – clean and sorted, with _Charms Compendium_ sitting on the top shelf. Sometimes Gwen felt like she should spend more time in the Room but as she adjusted fully to school life she realised how much time she actually spent perfecting her work.

Checking the potion to make sure it was right – green and shimmering a tad – Gwen pulled out the first year books she had carried with her and placed them on the shelves. When the collection grew, Gwen would have to sort them into years.

For now, though, they could stay the way they were.

Gwen stirred the green potion slowly, reaching for the next ingredient on the worktable. She had detached herself from Malfoy's side, oftentimes quite literally, and hidden down here. It was odd, she reflected, on how attached he had become with her. Last year she wouldn't have been spared a passing glance but now... now he was searching for her in a room, keeping track of her.

It made life difficult and Gwen struggled more often than not to get to the Room without getting followed by anyone. This was _her_ space and she didn't want any other presence here other than herself.

She stirred anti-clockwise and peered at the colour a bit more intensely. _Better,_ she thought.

OoO

_Sis,_

_I got twenty out of twenty on my Friday test! I've had a three-week streak! Isn't that great, sis? I think it is and my new teacher, Mrs McKillian, is really proud. She says that if I continue then I'll be moved up to Green band like you were. Don't you remember that it's the second-highest?_

_I've seen Miss Norby around the school and she glares at me more than she usually does. Is it because I moved up? Sis, I feel bad for her new class._

_How is your year going so far? I'm sorry I couldn't persuade anyone to take me to see you off, but they were all busy. I might be able to get someone to pick you up instead of you having to get yourself home. I know you get weird stares from people with your withy-stuff._

_Are you alright? I am. There was a tummy bug going around last week but I never caught it. I wanted a day off._

_Your Bro Alex._

OoO

Gwen had found herself sitting at the conjoining line of second years and third year Slytherins at the Halloween Feast. She hadn't felt like going last year but her new 'friends' – if you could call them that – had dragged her down for the festivities.

Malfoy sneered at the Gryffindor table. Gwen rolled her eyes and she knew what was coming. Over the past weeks, she had learnt that most of the group generally hated these moments. Nott would clench whatever he was holding tighter, Parkinson's smile would tighten, Greengrass would fling her hair over her left shoulder and sigh prettily and the Bulstrode would nod, not truly paying attention.

"Do you know how foolish those Gryffindor's are? Especially _Potter._ "

_Oh, sweet hell._

"There's Malfoy going off again." An older student sighed.

She looked up the large table to see who said it. The 'elite' group of third years were clumped together and the person who spoke was their 'leader'. Morgan Pucey, Adrian Pucey's younger brother, was scoffing at Malfoy.

Despite this, Malfoy didn't seem to pay attention to insult, or maybe he hadn't heard it and kept ranting the entire feast. Whatever joy she had gotten from being there – which wasn't much to begin with – had completely dissipated.

When the feast came to the end, Gwen found herself once again being stuck to Malfoy's side. Theodore Nott had left twenty minutes ago for one reason or another which left her with nobody who she could actually stand. Nott, despite being rather indifferent, didn't try and initiate conversation and never actively sought her out. In fact, he spent more time with Blaise Zabini.

Now that she said it in her head, that sounded rather... sad.

Regardless, when Malfoy wanted his posse together, it was Nott and her that stayed together.

Suddenly, the crowd they were walking in came to an abrupt halt with loud gasps. Malfoy grabbed her arm and pulled her to the front of the horde of people.

In front of the girls' toilet were Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter staring, horrified, at a still Mrs Norris, hanging by the tail from a torch bracket. On the wall were the words;

**THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE**

Gwen's eyes widened. Malfoy's hand fell from her arm and pointed directly at... something; silver eyes narrowed hatefully, "You'll be next Mudbloods!"

* * *

"What were you thinking, Malfoy?"

Melaia Rowle looked as if she was going to kill a man as she stormed downstairs. She hadn't attended the feast and had clearly just heard about the news. Malfoy turned white as a sheet.

"I was just- just reminded them of-" Malfoy tried to stutter out only to receive a wand pointed at his throat.

"You might be Mr Malfoy's spawn but _I_ will not accept you ruining our already shredded reputation anymore! Do you hear me?!" Rowle growled out, eyes flashing with anger. Gwen sat innocently on a chair.

People were watching attentively as Rowle chewed out Malfoy. Gwen turned to look away, to create a clear gap between her and Malfoy. Nott was reading a book in the corner with Daphne Greengrass sitting on the arm, head looking down at her nails but eyes cutting out to watch everything unfold.

"-if this happens again this will go _straight_ back to your father, am I clear?!" Rowle finally ended. Gwen saw subtle signs of people relaxing after the heightened tension.

"Yes, Rowle." Said Malfoy meekly before scuttling up the staircase to the boys' dorms.

Rowle looked around the room, face furious, "And, so help me, if anybody goes around being a fool like him there will be consequences."

The room nodded.

* * *

Whilst the school buzzed and chattered about the fabled Chamber of Secrets, Gwen set off to the library the morning after to find out exactly what it was. The older Slytherins – tightly packed into small circles – whispered quickly and quietly in common room about the topic and yet still she was no closer to finding what it actually was.

Picking up a book of the famed _Hogwarts: A History_ , Gwen paged through the well-worn book in the corner with her half-finished Astronomy essay out before her. She did have things to do after this, you know.

Her eyes caught on a word;

According to legend, before he left, Slytherin created a secret chamber in Hogwarts Castle known as the Chamber of Secrets. That Chamber was home to a monster that was allegedly supposed to purge the school of all Muggle-born students. Despite numerous searches of Hogwarts Castle, no evidence of the chamber ever-existing had been found.

Closing the book, Gwen went to put it back. As she slid the book back into place manually – it was quite low down on the shelves – she was interrupted by a familiar face.

Theodore Nott stood beside her, face blank. He looked at her, "Have you found it yet?"

The boy had never directly spoken to her before, and rarely spoke at all, but here they were. Gwen made sure to display an equal amount of emotion and inclined her head slightly, "Yes. Do you need the book?"

"Yes."

The air thrummed with awkwardness but nonetheless she took the book back from the shelf and handed it over, cover face down. Nott nodded his thanks. Gwen watched as the boy sauntered away and sat at a faraway table, feeling as though she had just missed something.

Or maybe being a witch wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

* * *

_Alex,_

_Things are starting to stir up here. The caretakers' cat was injured and thank god. It makes traipsing around the castle easier without the mangy thing stalking the corridors. I made a friend!_

_Are you proud, my dearest brother?_

_We spend time reading together and rarely talk about anything personal, which is nice, since the other boy I was talking about doesn't leave me alone. It really grinds on my nerves sometimes. I feel like it can be beneficial in an awful sort of way._

_But anyway, well done on your test streak. You know you can't reach the next band until next year so you're on your way to the highest band you can reach._

_From, Gwen_

* * *

Gwen was half-listening to Malfoy talk about the Quidditch match that had happened the day previous with the Gryffindors. Flipping to a random point in her herbology book ( _mandrakes_ of all things-) and beginning to slowly turn out the sullen boys' voice, she began to read.

Greengrass – who had been quietly talking to her younger sister Astoria last Gwen had seen her – sauntered over and draped herself over a silver and green armchair. She pushed her blonde hair over her shoulder carelessly. "Apparently a student's been petrified."

The mood made an abrupt change.

"Who?" Parkinson said in a soft, whispery voice as she tightened her grip on Malfoy.

Greengrass shrugged delicately. "I'm not privy to everything, you know."

Gwen flipped a page nonchalantly, pushing down whatever emotion threatened to well up quickly, "Bet you Potter knows."

There was a murmur of agreement around the group. Potter might have been only twelve but events seemed to circulate around him when it came to things. Or, well, anything. The strange part of it was, instead of soaking up the attention that came with it, he shied away from it.

"Maybe _he's_ the heir." Pansy Parkinson said as if she had found out how to transfigure food out of thin air. She smiled connivingly, a glint in her eye that Gwen didn't like.

Malfoy snorted, "Don't be stupid. The Potter's never married anyone descended from Slytherin."

"Not even the Verums?" Parkinson gazed up at him and tightened her grip, "Surely one of them did?"

Who?

"The Verums died out centuries ago – way before the Gaunts did," Malfoy said nonchalantly and tried to pry Parkinson's fingers off him.

Gwen turned another page and tried to recall who she remembered with that name, "Who are the Verums?"

Malfoy scoffed, "A branch of the Gaunts who separated from the family centuries back. They tried to claim that _they_ were the true heirs of Slytherin but they were wiped out in the Inheritance War of 1515."

Gwen had read about it – it was infamous for being one of the bloodiest wars in British history, although was easily surpassed by the First Wizarding War.

"Perhaps-" Parkinson tried to reason.

Malfoy stood up abruptly, "I've memorising half of the pureblood lineages of this age – Potter being one of them – and I can assure you that they _have not_."

The boy strode off, steps quick and hard, clearly in a bad mood. Parkinson's face crumpled but she didn't shed a tear, only marched off in the direction of the dorms.

Greengrass looked at her with surprise etched on her face. Gwen shrugged and flipped the page onto the next, "Trouble in paradise, I guess."

* * *

_Sis,_

_Lady Mary found your stash of wizard stuff I kept and you know how much she hates it. She's on a rampage. I don't recommend coming back for Christmas. I'll be fine._

_Alex._

OoO

Gwen had signed her name at the bottom of the list for who was staying at Hogwarts with little hesitation. She felt a churning in her gut every time she thought about going home and it worsened when she thought of her brother, so Gwen resolved to keep the topic of going home out of mind. It was hard to with all the chatter about Christmas going on in the halls.

A surprising number of Slytherin's were staying at Hogwarts – that being, six more than last year. It didn't sound like much but compared to previous years it amounted to a good lot. To Gwen's dismay, Draco Malfoy had _also_ signed the list and her sort-of-maybe friend, Theodore Nott, hadn't.

She sighed sadly and stared at her bowl of porridge with a forlorn expression. She didn't know if she could stand it anymore. How could she make it through the year without snapping?

The bowl of porridge didn't answer.

* * *

To be quite blunt, Gwen hadn't been expecting much from the 'Dueling Club' to begin with. In fact, she'd be in her Room if it wasn't for Malfoy dragging her like an eager puppy, she would have slipped off when nobody was looking and left.

Alas, it was not meant to be although she hadn't expected it to be this fun.

Lockhart had a miserable class and Snape equally so, but for different reasons and Gwen could tolerate one of them but there was no mistake in saying that watching Professor Snape wipe the floor with the man had been a delight. Even the Gryffindors had cheered for him.

As Lockhart ushered them into groups, Gwen found herself paired with an old acquaintance. Hermione Granger, bushy-haired and looking slightly out-of-place, stared back at her.

"Everyone in place?" Lockhart bellowed. "Now, face your partners and bow!"

Gwen bowed as gracefully as she could. Granger bowed slightly awkwardly, the practice unbeknownst towards her. Lockhart nodded, "Now when I count to three, disarm your opponent! One, two, three-"

Gwen could see the words ' _expelliarmus_ ' forming in Hermione's mouth, aiming her wand at her. Pointing her wand, and standing to the side so she wouldn't be hit if she wasn't quick enough, she said the incantation, " _Petrificus Totalus_!"

Granger went back, still as a log and Gwen sauntered towards the girl smoothly. It seemed she hadn't been the only one with that idea as she gazed around the room, Granger lying silently at her feet.

Across she could quite easily see that a Gryffindor boy, ashen-faced and being held up, was receiving apologies from Weasley. Theodore was standing looking unfazed beside a smirking Greengrass and Parkinson-

"Finite Incantatem!" Snape cast. Granger groaned at her feet, using her arms to push herself up off the ground, glaring at her.

"That wasn't fair!" Granger said sharply and Gwen shrugged.

The conversation – or argument – didn't get much further than that because Lockhart, looking flustered, had begun to move on, "Perhaps I should teach you how to block spells first. Shall we have a pair of volunteers? Mr Malfoy and Mr Longbottom, perhaps?"

"Mr Longbottom seems to fail at every turn," Snape drawled, scanning the crowd with his eyes gleaming maliciously before landing on someone, "How about Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy, hm?"

Malfoy turned to look at her as if seeking her approval, and she shrugged and gestured at him to go up. Perhaps he had seen this a good sign because he had a smug grin on his face.

Snape and Malfoy conferred at one side and Potter and Lockhart at another. Snape whispered something in his ear and Malfoy nodded eagerly, pulling out his wand. Lockhart tried to show Potter how to block, wiggling his wand before dropping it, and the boy looked quite ill.

"Three-two-one- go!" Lockhart yelled enthusiastically.

Malfoy went first, " _Serpentsortia_!"

A snake flew out of her wand, landing harshly on the ground and Potter immediately backup up from the dangerous reptile. Malfoy smiled and, from over the crowd she could hear it hissing angrily.

The scaled creature approached a Justin Finch-Fletchley with a vengeance, tongue flicking and Potter jumped in front of the animal.

"Stop!"

Gwen blinked. She... understood that and the crowd backed up. It was hissing, the snake was...

"They sssummon mme to attack, I musst..."

Potter narrowed his eyes, " _ **Do not!"**_

Gwen breathed in and then out and as Potter was ushered off the stage, Gwen reunited with Malfoy and the rest. He seemed shocked and Parkinson smirked smugly in an 'I told you so!' sort of way.

She schooled herself into an indifferent sort of expression with great difficulty as they walked back to the dormitories. She didn't sleep that night despite her efforts and when news came of the next petrifaction, the reality of the situation really began to set in.

Nobody could know.

* * *

Gwen checked on the heat to make sure it had not dwindled before she began to crush the ingredients in the mortar. The flames flickered and twitched, still burning fiercely and she began to crush.

 _Only descendants of Slytherin can speak Parseltongue_ , the voice in her head said stubbornly. It was right, Gwen supposed, but she had none of that blood in her. Whoever her father had been – dead or alive – was either a muggle who fled or a wizard who was killed by Voldemort in the war.

Gwen fiddled with the idea that Voldemort himself could be her father, basking in the ridiculousness of it, before moving onto better ideas. It had certainly been a surprise – to anyone – and it left her feeling a bit queasy at the thought of anyone knowing but Gwen could... accept it. Ignore it, pretend it wasn't there, that whatever blood she had in her veins didn't determine who she was. That was good.

And the only thing she had to do was to not tell anyone.

* * *

The run-up to Christmas break was tense. After the petrifaction of Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick, the entire school had been on edge and the blame had been put on the shoulders of Potter.

Perhaps, if she was any other student, she might've jumped on the train too but the boy was far too innocent, far too naive, to even contemplate doing something as such. Besides, he was the same age as her and the only way Gwen knew how to 'petrify' someone could be easily reversed.

As people left the castle, the tension decreased dramatically. No longer were there students walking around with 'good-luck' charms and ridiculous necklaces that were said to ward off monsters. Gwen, despite the revelation, seemed to relax more too.

Lounging on a chair, feet hanging over the edge, Gwen stared at the ceiling blankly. She had memorised her books, she had no will to walk all the way to the library and she had no other books to read. Perhaps she should get a hobby, she mused quietly. She turned to look. The door to the common room opening noisily.

Draco Malfoy swaggered in, scanning the green and silver room with great arrogance before speaking, "Stay here and I'll just go get it." He seemed to notice she was in the room and grinned, "You'll enjoy this Bortole."

Gwen flicked her eyes to Crabbe and Goyle and shrugged carelessly, "I'm sure."

Roughly a minute later, he came running down the stairs, "Look! Isn't this hilarious?"

Gwen winced as he shoved the newspaper cutting into their faces and Crabbe began to laugh awkwardly but Goyle stayed quiet. Malfoy grinned, if possible, wider and pushed it towards her, "My father sent it to me. Isn't it funny, Gwen?"

It was a story about Mr Weasley's flying car and Mr Malfoy's interview. Gwen scanned her eyes over the words with half a care and shrugged, "I suppose."

Malfoy nodded quickly before sitting down opposite his goons enthusiastically. She stared at her nails, "Technically, nobody would've known if Potter and Weasley didn't crash the car."

Goyle winced subtly but Malfoy didn't seem to notice. "Potter-" he spat angrily, "-will get what's coming for hanging out with such filth. The monster will get him, you'll see."

Goyles face was contorted in an odd sort of way that she had never seen. "What is wrong with you today, Goyle?" Malfoy said.

"Stomach ache," grunted Goyle.

Gwen pretended that the two mongrels hadn't spoken, "Maybe it'll make an exception for Potter and we'll finally get some peace around here."

Malfoy sneered, "You know, Father said last time the chamber was opened –fifty years ago - girl _died_. Perhaps it'll do him in instead of sending him to the hospital wing."

Crabbe made a weird noise and Gwen snapped her attention to him subtly as he spoke, "Surely you know who it is...?"

"No, but I wish I did." Malfoy scoffed, "Even Bortole doesn't have any ideas."

"Neither do you, despite how much you pretend," Gwen snapped, her pride hurt and she turned her attention away from the trio angrily, "You can boast all you want but it doesn't change the truth."

As soon as her back turned she heard shuffling. "Where are you two going?" Malfoy asked.

"Medicine," Crabbe grunted out, "for our stomach."

Gwen rolled her eyes from where she was sitting at the boys' antics. Malfoy let them go, but not before telling them to 'give the Mudbloods a good kick for me.'

* * *

_From ancient, half-dead blood she comes,  
To raise the cypress tree,  
The sun of the shade,  
the daughter of gold,  
And the maiden of gold and green_

The Maiden's Prophecy

* * *

The year progressed with little difficulty after Christmas break and Gwen found herself at the edge of the Black Lake in the early days of May, reading a book on ancient monsters and myths. In the muggle world, Gwen had read many of these but found few correct correlations between the fiction of the muggle world and the fact of the wizarding world.

The books were decorated in pictures that shifted as she turned each stained page and delighted her in a way she hadn't felt since she was young. The animals never crossed off their own page.

She scanned the new page, decorated with a massive, fierce monster that slithered around the two pages like a border. It hissed menacingly, eyes yellow and piercing, never stopping.

_The King of Snakes: Basilisk._

Gwen remembered faintly a tale of the Basilisk, remembered recalling it in a legend she had read once and never again. All of these seemed to have some backing but the Basilisk seemed to be, well, almost entirely myth even in this world with only two pages to describe it.

_The Basilisk is bred by only the foulest of wizards and controlled by those who speak its tongue. To look at its gaze would mean certain doom upon all and to feel it's venom is a definite demise. It is felled only by the caw of a rooster and spiders flee before it._

It went on to describe its naming origins as King of the Snakes and to detail several myths about Herpo the Foul, never explicitly saying how one was made which Gwen felt was for the best. Running a finger along the snake bordering the page as she read, Gwen eventually flipped to the next one.

The winds blew harder.

* * *

Perhaps Gwen had jinxed herself when she said that the time after Christmas break was peaceful. As the Slytherins fled to the Quidditch field, only to return looking like someone had died (they might've well had), Gwen had talked to Nott only to find out that two more muggle-borns had been petrified by the monster.

As such, the Hogwarts Staff enforced new rules that all must be escorted by a teacher or prefect to and from class. They never had to be alone either – _what a joy_ – and as a result of the petrifactions, Dumbledore had been sacked.

The man had never been particularly liked in Slytherin house, with people complaining about maybe-small things ("How is it fair the Gryffindors get favoured more than us?") to the larger things ("Damn Mudblood lover, that man is.") but Gwen could safely say that the man was powerful, and with a rampant monster on the loose, they needed all of the power they needed. He was feared by the Dark and it made good protection against those who sought to harm Hogwarts and its students.

Although Malfoy never outwardly showed it – he swaggered about the corridors bragging about the monster whenever there wasn't a teacher or prefect insight – she saw him sitting quietly in the common room, not chatting or bragging for once as if contemplating the consequences that the monster could have.

The entire Slytherin house was banding together too. The younger years were more frequently found near the older ones, being followed by at least one older student 'helping out' with something or another and the prefects made sure that nobody went in or out during the curfew without permission more so than before. Gwen had found it both insightful and overbearing – the older years, despite seeming oh so stiff, had talked a lot about the choices for third year but Gwen never got a moment of peace.

She often wondered how they sorted out who went with whom. Was it the person at the top or was it routine shifts? The second years were too young to accompany the firsties, too unskilled and immature, but a few third years chatted with them. But most of all, Gwen found herself with Melaia Rowle, the fifth year. She was awfully idle for someone who had O.W.L's around the corner.

"Do you know why the Slytherins respect me, Bortole?" she asked abruptly one day. They had been walking in silence in an odd direction, a corridor off the common room.

Gwen shook her head, silent as Rowle eyed her before reaching a dead end. She felt a creeping feeling going up her spine. Rowle smirked as if she knew everything about her, "Because I proved myself to them."

The wall they were facing was elaborately decorated. It had two tapestries hanging down either side with snakes curling around them, not moving but still. The stone was carved with what seemed to be memorials to... something.

"When I was young, my family was charged with crimes – but you know that, yes?" Rowle placed a hand on her shoulder, eyes digging into her, "When I came here, I was disdained by both the school and my housemates for it. For making a _spectacle_.

"I was a quiet thing, all bookish and small, until one day it seemed that a pair of Gryffindors had enough of me _'dirtying the halls_ '," she spat bitterly. "Nobody stood up for me then and they left me in the halls – cursed and miserable. Nobody will stand up for you if a pair of Gryffindors get it into their head that your bad. Do you think being a second-year will stop them? No, I was only a firstie and still, nobody cared."

Gwen thought about the times she had received glares, half-murmured insults and the sorting – the sorting, how could she forget? She had walked to the table and gotten cold welcomes and harsh glares, from everyone. It was easier to pretend that they weren't for her, were for everyone, that it didn't happen but at night when she struggled to sleep it was those eyes that came back up. She felt them even more now and once a Slytherin had almost been cursed in front of her – a third year with lanky black hair and brown eyes who Gwen knew was the boy that had sat with her back in first year and helped in the early months. Not that she needed it but despite common knowledge, she could appreciate things.

Rowle continued. "When I was in third year, after outscoring everyone for two years consecutively, I found this little thing. Unlike you, I was shunned. The Malfoy boy took a liking to you, a _fancy_ if you will but don't mistake that for acceptance."

She looked down at her harshly and Gwen nodded. "When I found this place, it was _everything_. I taught myself, tutored myself and by the middle of third year I was at the level of most fourth years." Her voice was breathless, a far cry from the hard tone she had taken before. Then, it took a sharper tone, made of victory and success, "I challenged a fourth year to a duel in the common room one day. I thought they wouldn't accept but they did – and laughed in my face as they did."

She approached a tapestry and pushed it aside, revealing plain stones, "I beat him – soundly and truly, and then I began to climb. I duelled a fifth year and won and then a sixth year and won by the skin of my teeth. _This is too good to be true_ , I remember thinking and it _was_ because I duelled another three sixth years, losing twice, but it was done. I had commandeered the respect of half the house."

"Why are you telling me this?" Gwen asked as Rowle ran her fingers down the wall, pressing into it. She wondered, vaguely, if Rowle had found her own version of the Room and how many others had too. It was straight off the common room, easily found by those who looked for it...

"Because," Rowle finally found the correct stone with a smile of victory, "when I leave, I know where I'm going and it won't be anywhere good but you...you have the makings of something good in you. And besides, doesn't history always love an underdog?"

"But I'm a second year-" Gwen blurted out. The entire situation seemed ridiculous. She was twelve – almost thirteen – for Merlin's sake! What good would I second year do?

"I have two years left to teach you and even if you don't learn all the techniques, you'll know the theory." Rowle said and a door swung open, leading into a dimly lit room, "Call me Melaia, Gwen."

Gwen nodded silently as she went inside.

The place was huge and small at the same time, with the walls being lined with extravagant decor and pillars stretching to the high ceiling. There was a snake – obviously – curled around the pillars, mouth open as it reaches the ceiling as if it was to take a huge chunk of stone out of it. "It's brilliant," Gwen said for a moment, losing her composure, "How did nobody else find this?"

Rowle- Melaia shrugged. "All that matters is _I_ did and some of the older students know too, in case you come here without me one day. It's nothing to worry about."

"Alright." Gwen breathed. It seemed weird – perhaps it had been found previously but left alone – and convenient but alright. Alright.

As she walked around the room, she spotted scorch marks and chunks of stone hidden by a cloth, as if a duel had broken out. There were faded marks of old portraits, very _old_ faded marks that Gwen wouldn't have made out if she hadn't seen the large, cracked frame tucked away with torn canvas along the edge. No, this had been here since... the beginning, perhaps, and just left unused.

"Magnificent, yes? You've had your fill and now I want to test you." Melaia's eyes glittered, "Tell me, how well do you duel?"

* * *

Gwen felt sore as she relaxed on the soft armchair, her arm sporting a large bruise hidden by a jumper when the news came about the student in the chamber.

Professor Snape had stormed in, interrupting half the common room and if he had been a prefect, would have received several curses – both in words and spells. He sneered, "A student has been taken into the chamber. As of tomorrow, you will leave due to the complications that have arisen. I recommend you pack your bags because the train sets off tomorrow."

When the portrait shut, the common room erupted into a frenzy with very few going to pack. _Oh sweet hell_ , Gwen leaned her head against the soft material, _can't I get one day of peace?_

* * *

Gwen felt like the entire year had been one weird fever dream as she left the train. _Hallucinations?_ Had she eaten something bad? Regardless, as she stepped off the train in July, she pondered over the events of the year.

She had been invited to join Malfoy's little group – or forced, seemed more like the right word – and had sat with them for the entire year. She had made little use of the Room until finally they – as in, Malfoy – had begun to back off after Christmas wherein she spent days finally getting to grips with herself. However, during those days, a monster had begun to attack the school and the blame had been placed on Potter. _Then_ , she had a fairly uneventful January, February, March and April before May had completely taken a downturn with the petrifaction of two more people. Afterwards, she bonded with Melaia in the weirdest way possible and became her, what, apprentice? _Then_ , Professor Snape said the school was shutting down due to someone being taken only to... not? The said person had been freed and the school was to keep on running but exams that she had revised for didn't happen.

Huh.

 _Does it matter, now?_ Gwen asked herself now as she passed through the barrier. Her brother, golden-haired and bright-eyed, greeted her enthusiastically. He gazed up, just reaching under her chin, and smiled, "You'll never guess what, Gwen!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave kudos and comment!! the next chapter should be out on tuesday - maybe monday but i doubt it. thanks for reading!!
> 
> -wufflles


	3. Year of the Servant : Part One

Gwen had spent half the summer fuming and the other half contemplating revenge in the bathroom. Her brother, her painfully blind, optimistic brother, had hunted down their Uncle whilst Gwen had been away and she hadn't the heart to tell him why she never told him about it. The man himself looked pleasantly surprised with her lack of comment on his appearance, having gained at least three stone since Gwen saw him last.

They were sitting in her Uncle's living room, the soft light of day keeping the room bright instead of the bulb. Gwen flicked through the pages of a fiction book as the TV ran in the background. Her brother was glued to the screen and her Uncle was marking down the paper. They had arrived an hour ago and Alex was enjoying himself instead of being cooped up.

Her brother stood up from the TV abruptly, "I'm gonna get some food. Is there ham in the fridge, Uncle?"

The large man nodded, a soft smile on his face, "Of course! Let me know if you need anything."

Her brother practically flounced out of the room, her narrowed eyes following him before cutting back to her joyful Uncle. The living room door closed behind Alex and her Uncle's expression changed from joy to suspicion.

"Have you told him, Gwen?" he asked, voice accusing and Gwen scoffed.

"No," she said harshly, "I don't like you and you know why but never did I tell him. He still believes the story about Leo."

"When will you tell him?"

"Secondary school," Gwen said shortly, "I'll let him know about Leo, our mum and Nancy but I might not tell him about you. I'll decide when it comes to it."

Silence reigned through the room like a tyrant and they could both hear the puttering and pattering of Alex in the kitchen. Gwen sighed and turned the page, "He enjoys your company, he's happy with you. I'm not here half the year... he needs someone to lean on, to support him and help him through the rest of school. I can't do that through letters whilst balancing my own schoolwork."

"You want me to support him – does that include monetary support?"

"That's your choice," Gwen shrugged and closed the book, looking at her Uncle, "But he would appreciate it, I imagine."

* * *

The air was warm and breezy, the sun rising over the horizon and Gwen kicked off the ground. She pushed into the air, fingers curling around the chain on the swing with one hand. From behind her, the gate creaked open.

"You came."

Madeline walked through the park and slid on the swing. Her hair was cut short, the tips brushing her shoulders. She had changed.

Gwen kicked off the ground again, "Are they coming?"

Madeline shook her head and wrapped her hands around her ribs, the ends of the trainers hitting again the floor, "Well... after you left for your school, Laya moved house and school and well, Jason doesn't come around anymore."

"Why? We were still close last year."

"Jason and Laya tried to date and it didn't work – it didn't work _at all_ and it ended pretty horribly. It was awkward, afterwards, and we just drifted apart." Madeline shrugged, "Then Laya moved and Jason got some new friends."

"Oh." Gwen felt sadness well up inside of her and she blanked her face, "My year wasn't so dramatic."

Madeline laughed softly, "What happened?"

Gwen started at the beginning, leaving out the magic part, and twisted the story to fit what might have happened if it was a muggle school. She ignored the entire 'Chamber of Secrets', telling Madeline that a cat, _only_ a cat, was attacked. She ended it with how an older girl had become friends with her, commenting little on the circumstances of the 'friendship'.

"Poor cat." Madeline murmured softly.

Gwen snorted, "Everybody hated the cat, and we hated it. It kept finding us when we went out at night and it trailed after _everyone_. Wretched thing."

"That bad?" Madeline asked. "Could've been worse, I didn't tell you how Lewis Dougal tried to fight a year 10?"

As Madeline launched into a story, Gwen tried to remember a better time when it wasn't two.

* * *

"I'll see you at Christmas then?" Alex looked up at her, blue eyes wide and pleading, "Please!"

Gwen shrugged and ruffled his hair. "I don't know. I'll tell you though."

Alex huffed in frustration. Gwen was too tired for this having been woken up at five that morning. Alex had been so happy though to see her go for the first time. He had never been here with her before – either waiting outside King's Cross or staying behind because nobody would take him and although she would never admit it, their Uncle was a help in their lives.

In a small act of affection, Gwen bent down and kissed the top of his head quickly. His face brightened immediately and when she boarded the train – her footsteps echoing throughout the place – she could still see him beaming brightly from where he stood.

The place was half-empty, unusually so and it unnerved her to an extent but it gave her a chance to take any compartment. Sliding down to the back of the train where she knew nobody would look; she pushed a compartment door open and heaved her trunk up.

She sighed as she collapsed on the seat. Gwen had forgotten how many thing she had packed. Digging through her carry bag, she scoured the leather cavern for something to do. A purple backed book with a neon green stick of colour poking out mid-way through. It was thick and it was exactly what she was looking for.

Fantasy done by wizards was trash, that was certain but it was a certain sort of trash that Gwen found herself reading – after taking off the backing.

As time trickled on, she could hear the noise levels steadily rising and from a while away she heard the heavy footsteps of her peers.

"Can we sit in here?"

It was a chubby-faced second year, hair brown and curly and Gwen remembered him as a Hufflepuff. Gwen shook her head, "No."

"But it's only you!" His friend snarled behind him, blonde pigtails bouncing angrily. Eyeing her trunk she pulled it down onto the opposite seat before sprawling herself across the other. She made a show of glancing around the room.

"Damn, guess there's no more room." She scoffed, "Sorry."

The pigtailed girl went to go into a rant but the curly-haired boy pulled her away murmuring something about it 'not being worth it'. Making sure that they were truly gone, she pushed the trunk back up, pulling herself from across the seat and leant her book on her knees with her head brushing the window.

Time passed and the noise increased to the common pitch of September 1st that she knew and Gwen guessed that the train would pull out of the station soon enough. Her brother would be long gone by now, she thought, and where would he be? He had come early to both go to school, albeit a tad late, and out of sheer excitement. Did he not go at all? Gwen would have done it, at that age, with no parental control. He better not be getting caught if he did.

The compartment door opened again and _by all the god's in the Greek pantheon-_

"You have quite a lot of nargles around you, did you know?"

Ah. This girl.

Gwen might have been socially deaf for most of her time at Hogwarts – excluding the small amount of time she had spent under Melaia Rowle – but she had known about the _exclusive_ Luna Lovegood and her absolute batshit behaviour.

Luna Lovegood was a wispy, blonde-haired girl and Gwen would not hesitate to compare her to an absent-minded fairy. She walked into the compartment with not a care in the world, "My friend is very lonely. Do you mind if she sits here? Thank you."

Nobody had ever spoken as fast as Hermione Granger and yet here was Lovegood beating her out by a mile and three-quarters. Gwen blinked.

"...alright."

* * *

Gwen didn't keep up with the news, but she knew about the escaped prisoner Sirius Black. She knew he had killed muggles in broad daylight and had served You-Know-Who had his right-hand. She didn't know that they had sent dementors to search the train.

She had read little on them, only covering the meagre facts that every wizarding-raised child knew. That they guarded Azkaban and fed on fear but she had never expected them to be this bad. People went insane in Azkaban quickly and now she knew why.

Gwen was sitting slumped beside Ginny Weasley – who wasn't quite bad for a Gryffindor and would have made an exceptional Slytherin had she been given the chance – with the most Gryffindorish Gryffindors to ever walk this earth. It would be severely uncomfortable if they weren't all shaking from the aftermath.

The shabbily-dressed man had handed them chocolate, which had helped, but it hadn't erased the words that were etched in her brain.

( _"gwen, you'll take care of him, won't you? for me...i know that... i haven't... but please.")_

Ginny's brother – they had actually become fast friends, weirdly enough, merlin bless Luna that insane girl – had noticed her by now, "You're a Slytherin."

"Oh come off it Ron, Gwen isn't that bad," Ginny scoffed still pale but not shaking as much anymore.

They bickered over her, Ginny in her corner and Weasley stubbornly against. Gwen only tightened her hold on the chocolate in her hand as it melted over her fingers. Granger joined in, hair bushy but a tad less so this year, "She helped us in first year, Ron! Give her some peace."

Potter, paler than death and shaking so _so_ badly, interrupted them a while later. The leader of the trio, the one who had the final word on anything but still willing to consider what his friends though, a sharp contrast to Malfoy, "I know she's a Slytherin Ron but she won't cause trouble, right?"

His green eyes met hers and they seemed, sharp in a dull way. Gwen, half-absorbed in the past, only nodded numbly, still stuck on the would've been and the what-ifs of previous years to really focus.

Gwen felt for her bag, for the book, and pulled it out. The neon bookmark still in the place she had left it. She would deny her fingers shook as she read it, that she hadn't been merely scanning the words and turning the pages but had been reading quite happily even if she couldn't tell you anything about chapter fifteen.

* * *

Gwen arrived at the welcoming feast alone.

Malfoy leaned over the wooden table to talk to her, eagerness plastered across her face, "Did you hear-"

"Yes, I did." She snapped, nails digging into her palms beneath the table, "Half the school has at this point."

He laughed smugly, the rest of them following like it was a cue, "It's hilarious, right?"

Gwen stared at him, eyes cold. Malfoy's laughter dimmed down and he smirked lopsidedly, "What, did the mean nasty dementors get to _you_ too?"

Gritting her teeth bitterly, "I bet that you almost pissed your pants when they came around. Do you need daddy to get you a new pair?"

His face darkened, a scowl twisting harshly on his face. He was different this year, less childish or perhaps his parents had gotten some sense into him (unlikely) or perhaps it was that his father had been sacked off the Board of Governors and thus he had wound on his pride.

Melaia Rowle smirked down at her and Gwen felt a slice of pride form inside her.

* * *

Gwen was scribbling down an outline for her Arithmancy homework beside Malfoy as he fiddled with his sling. In the common room, he at least gave up the pretence but the sling was constantly there and professionally done so he was left with only an arm to work with. The common room was half-empty and people were still pouring in from class.

She had been cold to him at the feast, refusing to stay in his company and shifting down into the silent pair that were Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini at the edge of the year group but afterwards he had sought her out, like a fly to honey despite her being vinegar.

Gwen tried not to dwell on it, on how despite her best efforts he still came seeking her out. It worked in second year and he had left her company much more often by June's end.

She remembered something, "Are you going to play in the Quidditch match?"

"Of course not." He scoffed arrogantly. "I can't play with an injured arm anyway."

"Worried Potter will beat you again?" she asked snidely, crossing out a calculation.

Malfoy stayed silent, hands running along the sling. He bit his lip, his mouth twitching down into a frown, "Flint says no, anyway. I don't think he wants to lose again."

Sighing at the statement, Gwen tried to give some emotional support, "I think you're good anyway. Better than Higgs, anyway."

"Really?" he asked, eyebrows rising and he looked pleasantly surprised in a non-pretentious way. He had grown up – a slight but a slight is a slight regardless – since the summer and his voice no longer drove her up the wall with its pitch.

Gwen shrugged, dipping her quill into the inkwell with half a care, "I suppose."

* * *

Sliding the books across the shelf, Gwen put the books onto the shelf. The thick sludge in the cauldron bubbled slowly, giving off a pungent smell that had Gwen scrunching her nose in disgust. The end result would most likely smell no better and taste even worse.

Outside, the sun was rising and the early risers were, well, rising but Gwen had gotten up when it was still dark outside and slipped out of the dorms. Sat on the chair were her books for the day, parchment and ink. In a drawer in the Room were spare essentials and her bag was sagging sadly in the corner.

She had dumped it there, containing the books from last year – not Lockhart's – and her own for the day. The year had begun to truly commence and as the first DADA lesson approached Gwen hoped to whatever gods were out there that the Professor wasn't a disaster like the other two.

From what she had seen of the Professor, he looked shabby with old robes and lines on his face. Grey streaked through his hair but he looked as if he should've been thirty instead of forty with old eyes.

She had received a letter from Alex about his class and how damn spiteful the teachers were which he still tried to blame on her. The teachers had loved her, with one exception but she hated everyone, and Gwen thought that it was less of them like him and more of him not being here.

He had also asked about their mum again, as he had been for the past few years, and Gwen had once again declined and told him to wait until summer and then she would tell him. It was a painful topic, despite Gwen having very few memories of their mother and even less of her death, but she could remember the scent of disinfectant as she sat in the soft blue chair. The red blood that stained the gloves and the sweat that still dried on her mum's forehead.

Was it emotional scarring? Yes, it was. Would Gwen ever acknowledge that fact out loud? No, probably not.

A bubble in the potion popped loudly and Gwen flinched, dragged out of her thoughts abruptly. Turning quickly to stop the potion overheating, Gwen flipped the page of brewing instructions to the next page and began.

* * *

"There'll be no need for your books today. We'll be doing a practical lesson."

Gwen paused her book halfway out of her bag before pushing it back in. Around her others were doing the same, with grins and hopeful glances being passed around in doves.

Professor Lupin made his way to the door, a kind smile on his face despite his shabby appearance. Gwen would've thought he would've been bitterer to whatever cards he had been dealt in life.

"Follow me." Said Professor Lupin and he led them through the corridors.

The Professor led them into the staff room. There was a wardrobe that shook violently and several people flinched back. "There's no need to worry, it's perfectly safe." Said the Professor calmly, "It's only a boggart. Can anybody tell me what a boggart is – yes Miss Granger?"

"A boggart is a shapeshifter that takes on the form of which you most fear," Granger said quickly.

"Very good, ten points to Gryffindor. Boggarts like small cramped spaces such as trunks, the gaps beneath beds or –" he gestured to his side, "- cupboards."

Gwen eyed the run-down cupboard wearily. It shook so violently one would've thought it was trapped in there with a werewolf.

"This was here moved in a few days ago," he continued on in an even voice, "and I asked Headmaster Dumbledore if I might keep it for students to practice with. We have an advantage over it, do you know what it is, Harry?"

Potter blinked quickly, "Er- because there's so many of us?"

It was framed as more of a question and less of a statement but Lupin accepted the answer nonetheless. "Exactly. Now, the charm that banishes a boggart requires more. The incantation is _riddikulus_ and when you cast, you need to think of something amusing. What gets boggarts is laughter. Before we cast, repeat the incantation for me. _Riddikulus."_

The class echoed him and behind her, she heard Malfoy mutter, "This class is ridiculous."

"Brilliant! Yes now who should go first?" he scanned the students that stood huddled together and pointed at a pudgy faced boy, "Mr Longbottom? Why don't you give it a try?"

"A-Alright," Longbottom said nervously, pulling his wand from his robes and holding it out nervously. The class tittered and giggled quietly at the nervous boy, some whispering furiously to each other with smirks on their faces.

"What's your worst fear, Mr Longbottom?" the Professor asked not unkindly.

Longbottom murmured something quietly, blushing slightly. Lupin encouraged him to speak up and he finally said, "Professor Snape."

Malfoy snickered quietly behind her.

"Tell me, what does your grandmother wear?" Professor said, something glinting in his eyes.

"I don't want it to turn into her either!" he said worriedly.

Lupin chuckled and leaned down to whisper something in his ear and Longbottom nodded, seemingly determined by whatever he heard. Lupin waved his wand and there was a bang as the door flew open.

Professor Snape stepped out, scowling menacingly. It was terribly reminiscent of the day when Gryffindor won the School Cup. Longbottom's determination melted away a tad but he pointed his wand and shouted, " _Riddikulus!"_

The lookalike Snape stumbled back, his clothes melting and changing into old fashioned women's wear. The clothes were garish and outdated, including a tacky red handbag and a daunting vulture hat that didn't compliment the outfit at all. She could literally hear the quiet gasps of horror by Pansy Parkinson.

'Snape' looked up in horror and the class burst out in laughter. Gwen smiled at the sight. "Line up!" Lupin said encouragingly, "So all of you can have a go!"

How about, no?

Even the Slytherins seemed excited, Malfoy pushing through the line with Crabbe and Goyle at the side but Gwen didn't fancy facing her fears, not today. She stood beside a Slytherin at the end of the line.

Standing sideward's so that when the next person who had gone joined the back again, she would slip to the back of the line. Gwen had a pretty good idea what her fear was and it wasn't something she'd want to show publicly.

"You've all done well today. For homework read the section on boggarts for next lesson."

The lesson was over apparently and Gwen slid through the crowd that left to find Malfoy. Professor Lupin might not have noticed if she didn't go but she was almost certain Malfoy had.

When she caught up to him, Malfoy sneered at her and Gwen prepared herself to make a nice excuse up, "Didn't go, Bortole?"

"Didn't feel like finding what I'm afraid of." She shrugged. "I think some things should be kept secret."

Parkinson giggled obnoxiously and Gwen felt like pointing out she hadn't went either but didn't – she had a feeling that if she did then Malfoy would stick up for her. They had a strange relationship like that. When they were alone with few people around, Gwen could consider her and Malfoy a friend but when around others both of them seemed to lunge for each other throats. She couldn't put all the blame on Malfoy, she initiated some of it too, but she would rather prefer it would stay constant.

Yeah, being a witch wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

* * *

_Alex,_

_How are you? I know what you're going to stay; I'm fine, most of the teachers hate me, what about mum? So I'll save you writing me back._

_That's nice, Alex. No, they don't. I'll tell you during the summer this time, I promise._

_Onto other news, I finally have competent professors this year –_ _the Professors for Arithmancy and Ancient Runes are both capable at least, and although Snape isn't the highest caliber of a person, he favors Slytherin so I can get away with any major mistakes. Which I don't make - don't you dare take that out of context! The DADA Professor - we get a new one every year, it's cursed apparently - looks rather poor but considering the track record I'll take what I can get._ _.._

_The boy I told you about – Malfoy, you know him, yes? – has matured a slight although he's still a pain and we argue a lot more now when we're out together. We're not a couple, Alex, before you get that idea into your head._

_When we're alone, it's nice, I suppose. He's not as arrogant then. It makes everything bearable but when we're with others, he brags and swaggers and tries to start arguments. I guess it's some form of character development. I keep trying to avoid him though. He's still irritating and he reminds me of a peacock or a leech. Either works._

_Hope you have fun being 'hated' by the teachers,_

_Sincerely,_

_Gwen._

* * *

"Having fun?"

Melaia Rowle flicked her blonde curls over her shoulder casually, crossing her legs in the silver and bronze armchair in the corner of the common room. The girl leaned on her hand, gazing around the common room, looking eerily like a cat.

"I suppose," Gwen said, staring across at nothing in particular. It was the weekend and despite classes being in full swing, Gwen found herself with no homework to do and Malfoy had left the common room early that day. She supposed she could track down Ginny Weasley and co. but ever since Tuesday, when Melaia had restarted their 'lessons', she had found herself bruised black and blue and too exhausted to do more than classwork.

"Do you see Carrow over there?" she pointed down at a dark-haired girl who sat with a boy hunched over a book, "That's Flora Carrow."

"Okay...?" Gwen said, slightly confused. Flora Carrow, the colder of the two Carrow siblings with dark hair and darker ambitions, but who cared less about the younger years than Snape cared about Hufflepuffs.

Melaia continued on. "And there, Cassuis Warrington, do you know what they're working on?"

“They’re working on a rule – as understudies if you will. For first years.” Melaia stared at her, eyes boring into her head, “Do you understand what I’m saying, Bortole? What I’m offering you.”

Gwen wished that she could say yes. She was vying for her approval, despite her own cruel nature of teaching and methods, and Gwen wished she didn’t.

"You never tell anyone – not Malfoy, not Parkinson, no-one.”She pointed a finger at her, eyes narrowed, “I’m placing myself out there telling you as a third year. Do you swear not to tell?”

Gwen nodded quickly.

"Now, let me tell you about the Council.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! thanks for reading! i'd appreciate it if you could leave kudos and comment. i had to split up third year because a) its not done and i promised an update and b) i underestimated how much i would have to write. the plot should begin to pick up speed now.
> 
> like part one, part two will be coming out next week! im not sure if there will be three parts, mayhaps, but we'll see, i guess.
> 
> also up on fanfiction.net under the name firefox3211!
> 
> edited: 26/04/2020

**Author's Note:**

> this is also on fanfiction.net under my other account, firefox3211!!! so, to make some things clear, i'll post every monday-tuesday. Please comment and leave kudos, it really makes writing this easier and gives me motivation to write. thanks for reading!!
> 
> wufflles


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